The thing that Mark had quietly feared for a long time.
The thing he was worried about.
The reason why he didn't want her.
The exact thing he feared, had finally happened.
The uneasiness that was always creeping.
The uneasiness he felt in Krista's presence. And now, more recently, in Elisa's presence.
A feeling he knew was right.
Or perhaps, a hunch? A premonition?
A terrible fact. Logical, but also, in a way, tragic.
The reality that the beautiful can and will bite just as ferociously as the ugly and terrifying can and will.
Cat or Leviathan.
Elegant Elf or depraved Demon.
Their fangs can still reach you. And perhaps, they will.
A fact that is as obvious as it is sad.
It couldn't have been surprising.
After all, even Roses grow thorns.
Even a delicate flower won't hesitate to spill one's blood.
Mark had stopped his approach.
